How Marius May Become Victor
by Deep Forest Green
Summary: In which the line between fact and fiction becomes blurred. Rated T just in case.


**Summary: exactly what the title says. Can be construed as historical RPF, but clearly not intended to be accurate. Title obviously inspired by the chapter "How Jean May Become Champ".**

**Disclaimer: Les Miserables belongs to Victor Hugo. Victor Hugo belongs to history. **

* * *

**March 1833**

Marius thought much about his father-in-law, the late Jean Valjean. He had changed his name. He had reinvented himself, and become a better man because of it. He had shaken off a painful past and made himself noble, honorable, respectable. All his life he had fought an uphill battle, and yet he had emerged a victor.

Victor. That was what Marius longed to be. He had already survived a vicious battle, but somehow that wasn't enough. He wanted to tell his story, to share it with the world. Oh, yes, he would gloss over a few things, to protect people's privacy, but the message would remain the same. He would see to it that his dead friends were not forgotten. He became convinced that it was for this reason, and not to marry Cosette, that he had been saved- because he was, after all, the best writer of the group by far. He was determined now to do what he perceived to be his duty, even if it took him the rest of his life.

It was the only way to deal with the guilt. He knew that he had been doing the right thing for the wrong reason by fighting at the barricade. Now he would be doing something not quite as grand, but for the best possible reasons.

* * *

**A few months later**

"Cosette, I believe I have found a way to honor your father."

He found the perfect way to tell his wife about his work. Somewhat to his surprise, she approved wholeheartedly. He had been worried that she would be angry at him, accusing him of wasting his law degree on something as frivolous as writing. He assured her that the book would turn a profit for them, that it would not be a waste of time and investment. Yet she seemed gladdened more by the prospect of committing her parents to eternal memory. She had always wondered why her father had requested a grave without a name. Though she knew logically that Jean Valjean must be thought to have died in Toulon nearly ten years ago, that she could lose everything if her father's true identity were discovered, she simply could not see why his obstinate self-sacrifice must extend into the realm of death. Besides, she said, she was eager to find out the whole truth about her mother. Her father had given her part of the truth in his letter, all he knew. But Cosette was determined to find out even more than he had known. She agreed to help him research "her side" of things.

Sometimes Marius regretted the way he had treated Éponine, how he had forgotten about her so quickly after she took a bullet for him. Not that he was recanting his decision to marry Cosette- he would never regret that- but considering the way he felt about her father, he could have at least noticed her more often. Well, as long as he was making amends for his mistakes, he would make it up to her. Or at least try. He would work her into the novel, her and her entire family. Because the blemishes of society deserved, at least, to be noted.

He had taken a mistress. Several, in fact. They inspired him. He frequented whorehouses. Some of the whores reminded him of Éponine. The poor ones made him want to fight for the poor, like his friends had done. They gave him ideas for novels- for in his troubled life as a lawyer, he had begun to find solace in his writing project, and the tale was growing rapidly. It had a mind of its own, and every day it became both more historical and more fictitious.

"There is just one thing," he said to one of them, lying in bed with her that morning. "I'm having trouble deciding on the protagonist's name. It should be something simple, easy to remember. Something that evokes the Everyman."

"Jacques Val-Jacques?" she suggested casually, stroking his side.

Marius smiled. "Hmm... I can work with that."

* * *

**1862 **

Marius disliked being in exile. He even missed Belgium, being the closest thing to France where he was still welcome. But more than that, he hated having to hide his true identity. Especially now that he was about to publish a book; he wanted the whole world to know that it was he who had penned the manifesto that would singlehandedly liberate the world from oppression and poverty.

It was a cold, rainy day when he sent it to the publisher. The old man pored over it for days, while Marius anxiously awaited a response. Finally a letter came, containing his response. The editor wanted to see the author in person.

The editor sat at his desk, his hands folded and his spectacles perched low over his nose. He seemed to be at a loss for words. Looking from the writer to the novel and back, he cleared his throat to speak. "This is quite an impressive manuscript, Monsieur..."

Marius smiled as he took back the copy. "Hugo."

* * *

A/N: ?


End file.
